Cheap Coffee and Cold Thrills
by Lance Corporal Chanyeol
Summary: Snowed-in and with nothing else to do, Katniss agrees to take him on when Peeta offers to teach her how to play the piano. In the end, his efforts prove to be futile because she finds that she's much more interested in listening to him play than learning the art of it herself.
Before the storm hit, he had been telling her about a new coffee and tea place that he had recently discovered. They were weighing the pros and cons of checking it out (pros being the idea of a huge selection of warm coffee for Katniss and warm tea for Peeta, cons being the long trek in the snow that they were both reluctant to take on) when she glanced outside the window.

"Holy fuck, that's a lot of snow."

Peeta had followed her gaze, groaning when the sight of pure white greeted him instead of the ratty apartment building that stood across the street from his place.

"I'm so glad I argued with you," Katniss had said, a shiver running down her spine at the thought of getting stranded in her car while a death storm raged on outside. "If I hadn't, we'd be freezing our asses off by now. I think it's time you show me some gratitude."

But that was 30 minutes ago. After bickering some more, Peeta finally conceded to treat Katniss something nice. Now, he's leading the way to the kitchen, one that Katniss knows more than the one she owns.

"What do you want to eat, hmm?" he asks her, rummaging through his fridge. The sight of it, almost bare save for a few water bottles and a carton of eggs, saddens her so much that she almost slams it close. The door misses Peeta's head by a few inches, his wide eyes proof of his surprise. "Why'd you do that? What happened?"

"Sorry. Your fridge is making me feel depressed," she tells him. "Besides, you're the reason why I'm having this sudden craving for coffee and apple cinnamon rolls, you take responsibility for that."

"I'm not the reason why the gods all mighty are shoving their snow-coated fingers up our asses," he murmurs, opening cupboards to peer into them. "It's you and your constant swearing that got us snowed in, so help me look for something." He smiles playfully at her and she returns it with a mock-scowl.

After turning Peeta's kitchen upside down and inside out, they're unable to find something to take care of his tea withdrawal, but they find something for Katniss: a packet of three-in-one instant coffee. She scrunches her nose in disgust, holding it out as she would if it were a dead rat.

"Peeta, this is making me so sad," she declares, watching him heat up water for her coffee. "The first thing we're doing once this storm leaves us the fuck alone is grocery shopping."

"I'm kind of broke right now, remember?" He turns to face her, arms folded over his chest, an apologetic look on his face. "I already told you about Haymitch being a special little smelly dick right now."

Katniss gags, taken aback by his sudden colorful language. "That's why we're snowed in, the gods are mad at you because you keep saying disgusting shit like that when you're mad at your employer."

"If anything, they're mad because Abernathy is being a choosy cheapskate."

She feels sympathy for him, knowing how it takes a toll on Peeta when his artwork keeps getting rejected. "Hey, I'll chip in for the grocery shopping since I love you so much."

He snorts, messing up his hair by running his hand through it. "You mean because you're going to eat half of whatever we buy." After a while, his features soften and he reaches a hand out to tap her on the cheek. "Thank you, Kat. You're a real blessing. Maybe the gods sent you to me today because they wanted to snow us in. That way, you'd be able to spend some more time with me."

Guilt weighs her stomach down, Peeta's words making her feel bad even though she's sure that hadn't been his intention when he said them. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. You know how it gets at the bar, there's always these young hipsters thinking that they can steal my position from me just because they dress a bit better and sing those stupid emo songs that everybody else is singing now."

Peeta holds her face and gives in, pulling her into a tight hug. "Hey, it's okay, I know that you think the competition is getting tougher. I understand if we can't hang out as often as we're used to, okay?" Katniss nods, hitting the crown of her head against Peeta's chin. "I'm sure the Hob knows that you're the best singer a pub has ever been graced with. At least, the owner does."

Katniss laughs. Of course Gale knows, her father had made sure that the Hawthornes knew about her "knack for singing". Peeta had knows about it since they were five.

The light click! of the electric kettle has Katniss pulling away from Peeta's loosening hold. He gets her mug, the blue one with white polka dots that she had gotten from him during their last high school Christmas party. At that time, she had wanted to bash it against his head, knowing full well that he had enough money to buy her a proper gift.

The smell of cheap coffee invades her nose. She considers it for a while, staring down at the steaming mug of translucent brown liquid. It doesn't smell bad, she decides, but it's definitely nowhere near as good as Peeta's usual brew for her when it comes to the aroma aspect of it. She takes a tiny, experimental sip, careful not to burn her tongue or to choke on it if it turns out to taste like something offensive.

She doesn't gag, at least, but she barely forces out a smile when she turns to Peeta. "It's good." She tries to elaborate when Peeta's eyebrow just shoots up. "Uh, it's a bit washed down, but it's not terrible at all."

Peeta pokes her nose, a small smile lighting up his face. "It's okay, Katniss. I'm sure you don't mean to offend the company who poured all of their efforts into making that."

They return to the small living room, standing side by side to look out the window. When her eyes start to hurt from squinting so hard, trying to see if she could see past the white flurry, she abandons her post and sits down on the carpeted floor, setting her coffee on the center table.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" he asks, plopping down beside her. They stare at the blank television screen, their backs resting against the foot of the sofa. "Oh, I know what we can do."

She reaches for her mug and sips on her coffee, nodding at Peeta to continue. "Well, you don't want to get decommissioned because of these hipsters who dress nicely and sing well-known songs, right?"

She nods, not quite following his line of thought.

"So why don't you learn a new trade? Add a new chip to your skill set?"

She narrows her eyes at him, trying to gauge if he was being serious or not. "You're not really suggesting that I learn how to rap, right? Or scream. Either way, it's a big no."

"Actually, I was thinking about something concerning instruments," he tells her, rolling his eyes at the way she tries to wiggle her eyebrows suggestively. "Why don't you try learning how to play the piano?"

Her eyes immediately and almost instinctively flicker to where Peeta's keyboard is backed against a wall, looking harmless yet strangely intimidating for something inanimate. "So, you want to teach me."

He shrugs, a casual lifting and dropping of his shoulders. "I'm sure I could help you out if you're willing to learn. Besides, I just remembered that I'm all out of movies and Finnick lost my only set of cards. It would be fun, I swear."

She highly doubts that she'd be able to learn how to play a new instrument in the span of a few hours and she doubts that it would be anywhere near as "fun" as Peeta promises, but she lets him pull her up, dragging her and sitting her down on the small cushioned bench that she had gotten for him just last year. She takes a deep breath, nodding to Peeta, and he starts talking. He points to keys, tells her what it's called, and let's her hear what it would sound like. He plays a tune, a fairly simple one that Katniss can follow with her eyes, and asks her to repeat it.

After about 20 minutes of trying to memorize the keys and almost succeeding yet still failing in the end, she gives up, admitting to herself that she is much more interested in listening to him play than learning it herself, so she asks him to play a song for her. He chuckles, shaking his head, but grants her request and presses down on a few keys, as if to test them out. The tune warps into something she's familiar with, recognizing the melody of her favorite go-to song for sudden performances; The Girl from Ipanema. She hums the song, earning a big smile and nod from Peeta. The hums are replaced with the actual words and they finish their little performance with a flourish.

"Here," Peeta offers, getting up from his seat to stand behind Katniss. He reaches over her from behind, his front pressed almost snuggly against her back. "I'll guide your hands."

They start out slow, Katniss' fingers stiff and unyielding due to her lack of experience and knowledge about playing the instrument. Peeta tells her to relax and she becomes hyperaware of how close his mouth is to her ear. At one point, he flips her braid to rest on her left shoulder, baring the skin on her right side to him.

Peeta takes a deep breath and exhales it through his mouth, a sudden rush of hot air that touches her skin, causing it to break out into goose bumps at the contact. Katniss doesn't know if he had meant for that to happen, but she doesn't ask, letting him have his way with her fingers, coaxing them into compliance.

Katniss is barely paying attention to the sounds Peeta is creating with her fingers, though. She tilts her head slightly, allowing him better access. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the base of her exposed neck, causing her to shiver against him. She feels him then, hard and pressed up against her back, and it serves as an invitation for her to moan and pull his head down, silently asking him to press more kisses against her flushed skin.

Peeta complies, kissing and sucking along her neck, licking a wet stripe from the base up to the shell of her ear. She notices that the music has stopped when his fingers move to ghost over the skin of her arms, leaving a fresh trail of goose bumps in their wake. His hands reach their intended destination, cupping the swell of her breast. He massages one mound, playing with her nipples through the fabric of the oversized sweater that he had lent her. His other hand comes up to touch her braid, pulling the elastic band from her hair and unraveling the weaves.

He lifts her up so suddenly, she doesn't know it's happening until she's seated again, this time facing him. She moves to kiss him the same time he does and their lips meet, slow and heated against each other. He returns to cupping her breasts, this time with both hands, making her moan into the kiss. He grabs the hem of her –his– sweater, dragging it up over head and past her arms, dumping it onto the floor.

Despite the miracle that is Peeta's fully functional heater, she still feels the cold air biting and latching onto her skin, making her crave the heat that Peeta would surely emit if he were shirtless like her. She mewls into his mouth, tugging on his shirt, but Peeta just smiles. He pecks her lips one more time before dropping down onto his knees to kneel in front of her.

Peeta kisses the skin along her collarbones, inching his way down to kiss her breast, the other one held snug in his hand. He starts pinching her nipple, exerting just the right amount of pressure to border on pain, and then twisting the numb between his fingers. His tongue darts out to lick on her other bud, sucking it into his mouth, lightly grazing it with his teeth.

Her hand rests against the back of his head, stroking his hair to spur him on, encouraging his actions. He releases his hold on her breast to reach down and pop open the button of her pants, pulling the zipper down. He teases her with his fingers dipping into the waistband of her panties, touching the skin above the fine peppering of hair. She feels how wet she is when she grinds her thighs together, hoping to create some sort of friction while he continues to tease her.

Peeta tugs on her pants, trying to extract them from her. She giggles, feeling an ever slight tinge of regret over her choice of clothes which quickly dissipates when he gets the skinny jeans off her legs along with her underwear.

He looks at the small piece of clothing, smirking at her. "That's cute," he tells her, tossing away her panties. She forgets the shame that had bubbled in her chest at his comment, letting out a surprised gasp when he kissed the inside of her thigh. She forgets about wanting to defend her cotton panties, feeling as if he found the strawberry prints funny, when his mouth drags closer to the spot that's been aching to be touched.

The first swipe of his tongue against her slit is followed by another, then another, and then she's entwining her fingers in the strands of his golden hair, keeping his face pressed up where she wants it. He fucks her with his tongue, his hand reaching up to fondle her breasts.

She lets out a particularly loud moan when the flat of his tongue pressed against her clit, swiping against the bundle of nerves. Katniss is bucking her hips into his face now, desperate to get more of that delicious friction, to get her release. She feels her orgasm building up, her feet starting to curl against the floor.

"Fuck, Peeta," she manages, grabbing his hair even tighter. He moans, encouraging her to topple over the edge, a chorus of his name spilling from her lips as waves of pleasure rippled over through body. He licked at her entrance, catching her wetness with his tongue.

He looks up at her, wiping at his glistening mouth with the back of his hand, looking very much pleased with himself. "More?"

She groans, throwing her arms to wrap around his neck when he moves to pick her up. When he lays her down on the soft bedding, she once again tries to get him to take his shirt off and join her in her nudity. Peeta acts like he's considering it, swiping his thumb against Katniss' protruded bottom lip, leaning down to capture it between his teeth. She hums his approval when he removes the shirt in one fluid motion, revealing the expanse of his upper body.

"Damn, Mellark," she says, raking her hand up the muscles of his abdomen, feeling it flex underneath her touch. "Pants. Off.Now."

He laughs, low and throaty, but complies to her demands and pushes off the bed to strip his pants off. When he returns to hover above her, his dick is out and proud, standing erect in all of its glory. She licks her lips at the sight, reaching down to grasp him. He moans in approval, pinning her down with his stare.

Katniss isn't one to back down, though. She pushes him off her, forcing him to lean back.

With his lips pulled up into a lazy grin, she thinks that there wasn't even any "forcing" needed. She takes him into her hand again, slowly pumping the shaft up and down, using her thumb to play with the head.

"You like that?" he asks, playing with her hair. "You enjoying yourself down there?"

She nods almost too eagerly, positioning herself lower so her mouth is mere inches away from his dick. She looks up at him before licking a long stripe on his shaft, swirling her tongue around the tip. He throws his head back, his fingers finding their way through her hair, urging her to go deeper. She takes more of his dick into her mouth, hollowing her cheek and moaning around him. Wrapping her hand around the base to cover what her mouth can't reach, she starts bobbing her head, trying to take him in a little bit deeper every time she goes back down.

She feels aroused again, and she knows what she wants. Tapping Peeta's thigh, she sends across the message without having to verbalize it. She knows he understand, thrusting off the mattress to fuck her mouth, using both of his hands to hold her head in place.

Katniss loves the sound of him moaning, echoes of her own, and it urges her to reach down and play with her clit.

"Fuck, this always turns you on so much," he says, pulling her hair. "Are you going to come for me again, Katniss?"

She moans louder, her fingers working out her orgasm even faster now that he's spurring her on with his words. If she could talk, she would be chanting his name.

Katniss comes again, hearing Peeta hiss when she is unable to stop herself from lightly clamping her teeth around him. Still, he is gentle with her, letting her ride out her second orgasm before continuing the wild bucking of his hips.

"I'm so close," he warns, his hold on her hair loosening to let her move away, but she just takes him deeper into her mouth. He curses, thrusting into her mouth before stilling.

She swallows, still not quite used to the slippery feel of cum cascading down her throat, but she's able to get every last drop of him. He's running a hand through her hair and Katniss meets his stare, full of awe and something else. She releases him with a loud pop, putting up a show of licking her lips clean.

"I love it when you swallow," he tells her, kissing her languidly. She climbs on his lap, breaking away from the kiss to tuck her head under his chin. He showers her head with kisses, his laughter vibrates off his chest, making her feel all fuzzy and warm. "Tired?"

"Mm-hmm," she hums, nuzzling deeper into his neck. "Give me five minutes."

"It's okay, take your time," he whispers into her hair. "I don't have any condoms on me, anyway."

She laughs with him, letting him move her so they're lying on the bed with pillows to support their heads. She doesn't need them, though, because she's already moving to rest her head on his chest. "I haven't finished the coffee," she says as an afterthought. "It's still there. On the center table. Will you get it for me?"

"Sleep, Katniss." He lifts her head up, angling her face so he could press a kiss to her forehead.

"Will you do that with me again?" she asks, stifling a yawn.

"What, oral sex?" There's a hint of amusement lacing his tone. "We could go all the way once the snow clears up and I can jog to the nearest convenience store to buy a whole box of condoms."

"No, silly. I meant what we did before that," she explains. "When you were playing the piano and I was singing. I meant if you'd be willing to perform with me again."

Peeta is quiet for a while; the only indication that he hasn't fallen asleep yet is the way his fingers run up and down her back in a soothing pattern. She's getting ready to rephrase herself, her head lifted to look at his face, when he finally speaks. "I think I'm too busy being hopelessly in love with this one," he pauses and Katniss doesn't miss the way his eyes flit to her face, "…with painting, to fall for another art form, but I'll think about it."

She smiles, closing her eyes and trying to burrow herself closer into his warm body. "Okay. I'll wait for you."


End file.
